


Not Gonna Die Tonight

by Mykael



Series: Lost In The Echo [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: College, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Organized Crime, Secret Organizations, Vigilantism, Violence, West Point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mykael/pseuds/Mykael
Summary: Grave and the Court of Owls are going head to head in Gotham City, a war taking place in the dark places, out of sight of all but those who know where to look.The night is darkest, just before the dawn...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long. Stuff happened, lol. But without further ado, the next part of the series. >:3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So tell me how your classes are going? You’re staying focused on those, aren’t you?” she asked. Lark glanced over at Batwoman and stood up to his full height. He raised his hands defensively and chuckled a little.
> 
> “Yes, I am, not to worry. But I still think I can help with Grave, and--”
> 
> “Let _me_ worry about them. Batman and I can handle it. _You_ focus on your studies,” Batwoman pressed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “West Point is an opportunity. Don’t waste it.”

“On your right, Lark!” Batwoman called, dodging a wrench as a thug swung it at her. She jabbed toward his shoulder, aiming for a pressure point. The man gasped in pain as his arm went limp, then Batwoman delivered a devastating uppercut. The man yelped in pain as he was thrown backwards into a pile of crates.

Lark turned to his right, and caught a baseball bat, aimed for his head, in his hand. He wrenched it out of the man’s hand, then punched him in the gut. The thug doubled over, then Lark delivered an uppercut, following up with a spin kick, and sent the thug crashing into two of his buddies. Lark then turned just in time to deflect a strike from a meat cleaver, the metal blade skirling off his gauntlet. Lark then kicked at the attacker’s shin, before elbowing him in the face.

With a few more thugs to go, Batwoman and Lark had finished taking down every thug in the warehouse. Lark chuckled to himself as he clapped his hands together, then cracked his knuckles.

“All in a night’s work,” he said smoothly, glancing over at Batwoman. He jogged over toward her and kept apace as he followed her out of the warehouse. “We still work pretty well together, don’t we?” he asked. Batwoman chuckled a bit, and tilted her head upward slightly to look up at Lark.

“Indeed we do. And you’ve grown quite a lot. You get any taller, and I’ll need a neck brace,” she joked. Lark laughed in amusement and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, pretty sure I’ve capped out at six feet,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Batwoman smirked and placed a hand on his shoulder. They shared a look for a moment, both of them flashing a smile.

“You know, you’re getting a little old to be Lark--to be Batwoman’s sidekick,” Batwoman replied as the two of them stopped just outside of the warehouse and turned to face  each other. Lark shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m only eighteen. And maybe I _like_ being Lark,” he replied. Batwoman gave a curt nod of her head.

“I see. Still, I think you should give some thought to an identity of your own. Like Nightwing has,” she answered. Lark blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. _Nightwing. Ah, Dick is going to kill me. Haven’t talked to him in like, three months._ In his defense, he’d been quite busy. Between classes and training, West Point had kept him quite busy. He barely had a moment to himself, even on the weekends. When he wasn’t studying his ass off, he was training his ass off. He had an advantage over his classmates though, having had prior training under Kate. He held back just enough so no one would be suspicious, but as time passed, he held back just a little bit less.

“Yeah...he’s going to kill me. I haven’t talked to him in months,” he replied with a nervous chuckle. They heard the sound of police cars closing in, so without another word, they pulled out their grappling guns and disappeared into the night. Though really, they just pulled themselves up onto a nearby rooftop, then crouched down to watch the police drag the thugs out. And to talk a little more, of course.

“So, how are things going at West Point?” Batwoman asked, glancing over at Lark. Lark smirked a bit, then pulled off his domino mask. He looked over at Batwoman and heaved a sigh.

“They’re going well,” Jason answered, looking back down to the scene below. He watched as the Gotham Police stormed the warehouse and removed the thugs, one-by-one and threw them into the back of the police cruisers. Then he watched as they removed the drugs and placed them in the trunks of the cars as evidence to be used against the men in court. Or more likely, to be sold by dirty cops and the money likely used to pay bribes to keep people quiet.

Those dirty cops wouldn’t be too much of a problem for much longer though; if he knew Kate well, and he was confident he did, she _wanted_ them to sell the drugs, and lead her to all of the scum involved. It was a nice way to clean up Gotham’s Justice System. Not that it’d ever be one-hundred percent clean, but it was good to bust some scum bags.

“I’m almost at the top of my class--” Jason started, prompting Batwoman to chuckle in amusement. She removed her cowl and glanced over at the young man with an amused look on her face.

“Almost?” she interrupted. Jason shrugged his shoulders, a grin adorning his face.

“Yeah, almost. I promise you, I’ll be at the very top by the middle of the year. I’ve been holding back though. Can’t make anyone suspicious, y’know?” he replied. Kate gave a nod of approval and clapped his shoulder with her hand.

“Well, either way, I’m proud of you. I already knew you were doing well,” she started, glancing over at him again. Her lips canted upward, into a smirk, and said “because I hacked into their systems and had a peek at your grades.”

“So it’s just nice to hear it from me?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. Kate nodded and pulled her cowl back back, and Jason pressed his domino mask back onto his face.

“It is. It makes for good conversation. And it’s nice to hear from you, directly, you know?”

“I know.” The two of them crouched there for a few minutes longer, long enough to watch as the cops pulled away from the warehouse to finish the job. They watched in silence, and when the last car pulled away and made its way down the street, disappearing in the distance, Batwoman sighed a bit.

“So tell me how your classes are going? You’re staying focused on those, aren’t you?” she asked. Lark glanced over at Batwoman and stood up to his full height. He raised his hands defensively and chuckled a little.

“Yes, I am, not to worry. But I still think I can help with Grave, and--”

“Let _me_ worry about them. Batman and I can handle it. _You_ focus on your studies,” Batwoman pressed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “West Point is an opportunity. Don’t waste it.” 

“Alright, you win,” Lark replied with a laugh as the two of them casually walked across the rooftop. They both pulled out their grappling guns and pointed them to a building across the way.

“Come on, we should get going,” Batwoman said, glancing over at Lark. “You’ve gotta take a Zeta Tube back and get back in bed before they discover you’re gone.” Lark chuckled in response and waved his hand dismissively.

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

 Jason was awake by five in the morning and immediately got ready for the day. He began his morning duties with making his bed, cleaning his room, shining his shoes, and then donning his uniform.

As part of his platoon’s duties, he was tasked gathering the laundry of the upperclassmen. He, along with the rest of his platoon, gathered up the laundry bags outside the doors of the upperclassmen and delivered it to be washed. Naturally, he was right on time for the morning formation and marched with his company onto breakfast. He continued on to his duty of serving the upperclassmen before getting his own breakfast.

He’d learned early on that the upperclassmen could be, well, dicks. The upperclassmen saw it as their duty to “haze” the cadets and “break them in”. Adam Wesker, a senior, had singled him out and took every opportunity to make life difficult for him. He’d shown great restraint though; he’d wanted to clock the bastard on more than a few occasions, but he didn’t, because he didn’t want to screw this up.

It was nothing that’d cause physical harm, but it was definitely made to screw with them. Adam would routinely pick him out of a formation and make him recite some piece of “knowledge”. Jason got it right all of the time, no matter what it was, which seemed to annoy the man. Other times, he’d make him randomly drop and do push ups, or sit ups, for no other reason than just because. And because the man was his senior, he had to do it.

Basic training had been a grueling experience. For nine weeks, he had a strict schedule, intense physical training, weapon and combat training, and survival training. _Hell_ would have been an improvement, quite honestly. Though Jason had an easier time of it than the rest of his classmates, due to his training with Kate. Still, he made an effort to appear just as wiped as the rest of them.

“Jason, hey,” called a young, auburn-haired man. Jason looked over at the table and flashed a smirk; his best friend and fellow cadet, James August. Jason took a seat beside him and immediately got to eating breakfast. He stabbed at his eggs and ate them quickly, since they only had half an hour to eat before their classes began. Jason didn’t like to be late.

“James,” Jason acknowledged, sipping his coffee. James started munching away on his own food, glancing over at the senior’s table, at Adam. He turned back to Jason and patted the man on the shoulder.

“So, are you coming with Derrick and I into town this weekend? We’re gonna go catch a movie, hang out, the usual,” James asked, taking a bite of his eggs. At that moment, a brunette haired cadet joined them. The man sat on Jason’s other side, and jabbed him playfully in the side with his elbow. “Speak of the devil,” James said, lips curving into a smirk. Jason looked back and forth between the two of them, then shook his head.

“‘Fraid not. I’ve got studying to do this weekend, as well as some extra classes I’ve signed up for,” Jason replied. Both men groaned and shook their heads.

“Dude, you’re such a nerd,” Derrick joked. James laughed and patted Jason’s back.

“Dude, take a weekend off and _relax_ , buddy. You’re always busting your ass! All work and no play makes Jason a dull boy.” Jason finished his breakfast and glanced up at the clock, then looked back and forth between his two friends and shook his head.

“Like I said, I’m sorry, but I got shit to do this weekend,” Jason replied, getting up from the table. He made it a point to avoid Adam and the other Firsties, as well as his friends; it wasn’t that he didn’t like them or anything. James and Derrick had become his two best friends here at West Point. It was more that, if he hung around them any longer, the might have actually convinced him to take some time off from all his studying and training over the weekend to fuck off for once. It was appealing, sure, but Jason prided himself on being the top of his class, and he wanted to stay there.

Jason had taken a Major in Mechanical Engineering, with a Minor in Robotics. He already had some knowledge about cars, no thanks to his father, but the idea of expanding on that, to include more than just vehicles, was a tantalizing concept. He could see himself building quite and honest career with what he learned.

And outside of the military, and civilian life, he could think of a few...other ways...to put those skills to use. And of course, the Minor in Robotics was a choice he’d made, thanks to Roy. He’d seen some of the gadgets, drones, and bots that Roy built and used as Arsenal. Also listening to his best friend go on about them kind of interested him, truth be told.

He’d also been giving some thought to Kate’s encouraging him taking on a new identity beyond Lark. Now that he was 18, she was right; he was a bit too old to continue being Lark, to continue being a sidekick, any more. And so he sincerely started to think that maybe it was time for him to be like Nightwing, to strike out on his own and find his own city and build his own reputation, out of Batwoman’s shadow.

Between his duties as a cadet, training, and classes, he used much of his free time to continue helping Batwoman with her investigation into Grave, and now, The Court of Owls. It seemed as though Grave’s activities in Gotham had driven the Court out of the shadows, so to speak; their assassins still hid under the cover of the night, but now they appeared more frequently to counter Grave.

Or he _had_ been using much of it to help. Kate had convinced him to focus on his studies, rather than what was going on in Gotham, over fifty miles away. As per her request, Jason started focusing more of his time on his classes, and his training. West Point was a grand opportunity, and Kate had convinced him that he should make the most of it that he could. So he knuckled own and started focusing on his studies. Though that didn’t mean he didn’t keep track of what was going on in Gotham and Bludhaven every now and again.

For now, Jason was focused on his classes and getting through today. Tomorrow was Saturday, which gave him time to do whatever. He hadn’t lied to his friends when he said he had plans, and a good chunk of that, was studying. Another bit, was taking some time to visit with his family and friends back in Gotham. Namely, his boyfriend. Dick probably wouldn’t be happy with him, since he hadn’t even spoken to him in months. Hopefully, Dick would understand that West Point wasn’t like a typical college though.

Jason continued on with his classes. His schedule, after Basic Training, was pretty straight forward, and quite strict. He only had fifteen minutes between classes, starting with Calculus, then English, History, and Basic Military Tactics. He had to be present for Lunch Formation at 1200 sharp, then have lunch around noon. Dean’s hour came after that, followed by more classes; Computer Science, and Psychology. Finally, was Company Athletics.

After all of that, the day winded down with his duties as a cadet, dinner, study hour, and then bed. It was hectic, sometimes a bit stressful, and yet oddly simple for Jason.

But another long day came to an end and Jason began his duties for the night, which included delivering the mail, a task he shared with a few other cadets Others were tasked with delivering the clean laundry that they picked up that morning.

The young man made his way down the hall with a bag full of mail, passing by a fellow cadet with a cart full of shrink-wrapped laundry bags in it, and stopped before one of the senior’s bunks. Unfortunately, Adam Wesker chose that moment to rear his ugly head. Jason fumbled with the mail as he pulled out a few pieces and dropped some.

“You dropped the mail cadet!” The brunette snapped, wearing a smug expression. Jason glanced down at the floor and picked up the wayward envelope, tucking it back into the bag from which it had come from. But that wasn’t enough. “You’re sloppy cadet! Drop and give me thirty! Now!” Adam shouted, lips canting slightly up into a smirk.

Jason glared at the man, but as his senior, he had little choice in the matter. If any of the other Upperclassmen witnessed his defiance, they would take it as an opportunity to try and break him. “Try” being the operative word. HE’d braved the streets of Gotham, so he could handle anything these guys threw at him.

“Yes sir,” he replied with much reluctance, dropping to the floor and started doing push-ups. Midway through, Wesker’s boot stepped down onto his back. Jason grunted as he struggled to push against it while Adam sported a smug grin.

“I can’t hear you counting, cadet! Take it from the top!” Jason growled and started over, counting out loud and struggling against Wesker’s weight on his back, until he counted to thirty. “You’ll never be anything but street trash,” Adam muttered to him so no one else could hear him, just before he let him up. Jason, however, wasn’t going to let that stand. He grabbed the mail bag. He turned around, pretending to be clumsy as he smacked Adam with the bag, timing it just as another cadet passed behind him with a laundry cart. Adam yelped in surprise as he was tripped up and knocked over. He fell right into the cart behind him.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, I’m such a clutz!” Jason replied with feigned regret, struggling not to grin while the other cadets and upperclassmen in the hall at the time all laughed. Adam growled as he pulled himself out of the cart, glaring at Jason. He looked around as all the cadets and his fellow upperclassmen watched, then jabbed Jason in the chest with his finger.

“Back to your duties, cadet!” Jason smirked once the man was out of sight, and finished up his duties for the night. After that, he spent the next hour studying for a mandatory evening study period, before turning in for the night. As Jason and his bunk mates climbed into bed, he waited until the bed check, and then to make sure his roommates were asleep before he climbed back out of bed. It was late, just past midnight when he started pulling on his Lark gear.

“Hey,” came a hushed voice. Jason quickly spun around to see Nightwing, crouched in his window, with a smile on his face. “Long time no see, Little Wing,” he said to him, climbing into the room. Jason flashed a nervous smile as he pressed on his mask and then ushered Nightwing back out of the window.

“Sssh, we’ll talk soon. Let’s get out of here first,” he whispered back, and together, to two of them disappeared into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t want to do that,” Nightwing said smoothly. The man literally didn’t want to do it, he could tell, but he had to buy some time to get Lark into position. “Seriously, I can tell that this is not what you want. So why don’t you just put the gun down--”
> 
> “I can’t! They’re watching!”

Nightwing and Lark sat perched atop a building in Bludhaven after having just finished busting up a drug smuggling ring. Lark stressed that he could only be out for a few hours, so he could get back and sleep for at least four hours, but they still had plenty of time left. And so they opted to use the time to simply catch up.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you or anything, Dick,” Jason said softly, sipping his coffee. Lark and Nightwing paid a quick visit to one of Dick’s favorite 24 hour drive-thru doughnut shops and grabbed some coffee. Dick sat beside him, munching away happily on a doughnut as well. “Things at West Point are just _really_ busy. And I’ve been focused on my training and my classes--”

“It’s okay Jaybird, I get it,” Nightwing replied, taking a sip of his coffee. Jason and Dick shared a look, then Dick flashed a smile. He finished his doughnut, then sipped his coffee. He leaned toward Jason and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve done my own research on West Point, and I know it’s _a lot_ more hectic than a regular college. I know you’d make time for me when you could.”

Jason glanced over at Dick and sipped his coffee. He was a little surprised the man was so okay with all this.

“Huh, that’s surprisingly understanding of you,” he replied, lips curving into a smirk. Dick chuckled in amusement as he turned to Jason and opened his mouth to speak. He didn’t get so much as a word out when something cam across the radio; he’d hacked into the BPD’s frequency as he had nearly every night since he’d started here as Nightwing.

“I’ve got something. Hostage situation at a nightclub called _Afterlife_. Should be an in-and-out. You up?” Nightwing asked, flashing a smirk. Lark chuckled and drained his cup, then dropped it off of the edge of the building to land right in a garbage can below. “Show off,” Nightwing muttered with a snicker of amusement. Lark snorted.

“You like it,” he replied, winking at the man as the two of them reached for their grappling guns. “But yeah, I’m up for it,” he started, holding up three fingers. “A Drug Smuggling ring, and three pick pockets; that’s not even a light workout! Plus, I still got twenty minutes before I have to head back and catch some Zs.” He shrugged his shoulder and added “this should only take five.” Nightwing chuckled in amusement and then the two of them fired their lines, swinging off the roof top and into the night, side by side.

The nighclub in question was only a few blocks away from their previous position so it didn’t take them long to arrive. When they did, quite a scene had already unfolded. A helicopter hovered above, with a spot light on the front door. A dozen or so police cars sat out front, the cops with their weapons drawn. Swat Teams had just begun to gather around the edge of the perimeter, heavily armed and armored. A crowd of civilians had gathered outside the perimeter with a few cops assigned to keep them back.

“So,” Lark started, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced over at Nightwing “it’s your city. How d’you wanna do this?” he asked. Nightwing frowned for a moment as he looked out over the scene, examining things carefully. “You got a detective buddy, like Gordon, right?”

“No. I mean, there’s detective Svoboda, but I think she only tolerates me,” Nightwing replied with a snicker of amusement. “I still haven’t gotten in the good graces of the BPD yet. They’re a bit more cynical than the GCPD. And probably more corrupt.”

“Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you then, Dickie-boy,” Lark replied with a snort of amusement. Nightwing snickered again and shook his head.

“Code names in the field, Lark,” he replied. Lark snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

“We’re on a roof top, and I’m talking quietly. No one can hear us,” he replied, lips curving into a grin. “We can talk dirty.” Nightwing snickered again and shook his head. He glanced over at Lark and gestured for him to follow. Together, the two of them slipped across the roof tops and around toward the nightclub. Nightwing silently led Lark to a secret entrance leading inside the nightclub; it was apparently owned by a moderately wealthy, and paranoid, drug lord who often worked outside of Bludhaven.

The two of them easily slipped into the nightclub through a bathroom window. It was just big enough for Lark to fit through, which meant it was a simple matter for Nightwing. Once the two of them were inside, the proceeded out through the bathroom door, remaining in stealth and hiding in the shadows so they could scope out the situation without putting anyone in harm’s way.

The hostages were all gathered around the bar with their backs to it; no way to sneak away, with a couple of gunmen holding guns on the hostages nearby. With the way everyone was currently position, sneaking out was a distinct impossibility. The question remained though; why hold up a nightclub, of all places? The banks were closed at night, and though nightclubs often made quite a lot of money in a single night, it surely wasn’t enough to warrant holding the place hostage over.

Lark and Nightwing exchanged glances; they’d worked together enough times that they were capable of formulating a plan and working together seamlessly without exchanging even a single word. And so with that quick, silent exchange, they both knew what they had to do. Nightwing and Lark nodded to each other and set their plan into motion.

“Y’know, it’s rude to point a gun at people,” Nightwing called, touching down on the floor and twirling an escrima stick. The two thugs turned and trained their guns on him and immediately, Nightwing sensed that something was amiss. Though they had their guns pointed at him, he could read their body language, and that told him that they didn’t want to do this. They were hesitant, fearful even. Even so, civilians’ lives were at risk. He couldn’t take any chances.

“N-Nightwing,” one of the men mumbled, pointing his gun at the black and blue clad vigilante. Nightwing smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

“Just thought I’d drop by and see what all the fuss was about,” he replied, taking a step closer.

“Don’t come any closer!” the other man shouted, pointing the gun at one of the civilians. The woman he had the gun trained on gasped and covered her head. But Nightwing remained calm.

“You don’t want to do that,” Nightwing said smoothly. The man literally didn’t want to do it, he could tell, but he had to buy some time to get Lark into position. “Seriously, I can tell that this is not what you want. So why don’t you just put the gun down--”

“I can’t! They’re watching!”

“Shut up!” the other man barked. He turned back to Nightwing, but a grunt from behind alerted him. He spun around and there stood Lark, having disarmed and disabled the first thug. He trained his gun on the newcomer, but Lark was faster; the threw a birdarang and knocked the gun clean out of the man’s hand, then Nightwing made his move, leaping forward and slamming the man into the ground, tying his hands up behind his back. He glanced up at Lark and flashed a smile.

“Nice job,” he said smoothly, clapping his hands together. Lark gave a shrug of his shoulders, flashing the man a smirk.

“Did you expect any less?” Nightwing chuckled in amusement as the civilians cheered them both, then the two of them ushered the civilians outside to safety. The two criminals were sent out after them, in hand cuffs, but Nightwing and Lark stayed inside.

“Something wasn’t right about this--” Nightwing started.

“Smells like a set up, right?” Lark filled in, placing his hands on his hips as he gave the place a once over. “So, dig for clues then? How long before the cops start storming this place?”

“A while yet,” came a voice. Nightwing and Lark’s attention was drawn toward the back of the club, where a figure stepped out of the shadows, dragging a dead body. He threw it onto the floor and stared them down.

“Grave,” Lark hissed, eyes narrowing as the familiar sight of black and red. One of Grave’s assassins had appeared from the shadows and moved a few steps toward them, his steps confident and unconcerned.

“Lark. You’ve grown up,” the assassin said simply. Lark drew a gun and aimed it at the assassin, prompting him to laugh. He waved his hand dismissively and said “put your toy away. I’ve not come to fight. Well, maybe.”

“What do you want? How did you know I’d be here?” Lark snapped.

“You’ll find that I—and Grave—know a lot about you... _Jason_.” Lark and Nightwing exchanged shocked glances, then looked back to the assassin. “I’ve been dispatched to extend an invitation--”

“Piss off,” Lark interrupted without missing a beat.

“Aw, but you haven’t heard my offer!”

“Piss. Off. I’m not joining you. In fact you? I’m sending to Black Gate,” Lark added, lips curving into a smirk.

“Hmm. Well you,” he said, turning to Nightwing.

“Yeah, no. My answer’s the same,” Nightwing replied.

“Pity. I suppose I’ll just have to kill you then. Can’t let those insipid Owls get you,” the assassin answered, charging at Nightwing. Lark intercepted, and landed a punch to his face, sending the assassin stumbling backward. Nightwing slipped past Lark, and unleashed a furious escrima combo. The assassin was taken by surprise by how well Lark and Nightwing fought in tandem.

When he made a move to counter, Nightwing ducked back and Lark jumped in, throwing him off guard again. But sure as day, as soon as he attempted to overtake Lark, Nightwing would jump back in. They worked together like a well oiled machine and it didn’t take long for the assassin to discover that he was out matched.

“Well, it appears you two are the perfect team. Pity you’ve refused our offer. You’d have been treated like kings,” the assassin said, ducking back. He sighed and brushed himself off, then shrugged his shoulders. “Alas, you’re both too good for you’re own good.”

“Blah, blah, blah. You know how many times I’ve heard this crap before? Too many to count,” Lark replied rolling his eyes. Nightwing snorted in amusement.

“Should start making a game out of it. Count how many times you’ve heard a particular line,” Nightwing joked. The two of them turned their attention back to the assassin and made a move to apprehend him.

“Time to go to lock up pal,” Lark called, moving in for a takedown. The assassin, however, wasn’t having it. He flipped backward and threw down a handful of mini smoke grenades.

“Not today. I have strict orders, and I personally have never been caught!” he called. Nightwing and Lark charged through the smoke, but the assassin was already gone. “Until we meet again!” his voice called. Lark and Nightwing looked around, but truly, he was gone.

“That was weird,” Lark muttered.

“Yeah. All that trouble to try and recruit us?” Nightwing asked, placing his hands on his hips.

“And it sounds like the Court of Owls has its eye on you as well,” Lark added. Nightwing sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Right. As if I don’t have my hands full as it is already,” he answered, earning a snicker of amusement from Lark.

“Anywho, it’s late. Or early. However you wanna look at it. I’ve gotta get back to my bunk,” Lark said smoothly, letting out a small sigh. “Oh and don’t tell Kate about this thing with Grave. I don’t need her worrying about me. I can take care of myself,” said Lark. Nightwing gave a nod in reply.

“Okay. But watch your back, yeah?” Nightwing asked, stepping closer to Lark. He wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. The sounds of the cops storming the building interrupted them though.

“And that’s out cue,” Lark muttered, lips curving into a grin. Before they could be seen, the two vigilantes slipped back out of the building, and climbing back up to the roof tops. From there, they both made the trip back across Bludhaven and toward the zeta tube, hidden in an alley way and disguised as a defunct phone booth. They both took it to West Point, New York before sneaking back onto campus.

“So...am I going to see you for Thanksgiving?” Nightwing asked as Lark climbed up through the window of his bunk. Lark looked down at him and flashed a smile.

“I’m hoping, yeah,” he replied. Nightwing leaned up and they shared a kiss, lasting only for a few minutes.

“Good night. See you soon, Jaybird,” he said softly.

“Night Dickie,” Lark replied, disappearing through the window. He glanced around the room, almost pitch black and his bunk mates all still sound asleep. As quickly and quietly as possible, Jason stripped out of his gear and hid it away where it wouldn’t be seen, and climbed into bed. He pulled up his blankets and closed his eyes with no one having been any the wiser that he’d even been gone. Sleep found him quickly; he’d given himself four hours with which to fall asleep, and that was all that he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate sipped her coffee and then turned her attention to Bruce.  
> “So what did you come here to ask?”  
> “I wanted to invite you all to Thanksgiving Dinner at the manor. You’re family, so--”  
> “We’d love to, wouldn’t we Katie?” Jacob asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Lots of shit happening IRL. Also apologies for the abrupt ending, haha. As I neared the ending of this chapter, I realized it was going to be waaaay too long if I went on with what I originally had planned. So I'm splitting it into two chapters. Hopefully the next one will be written soon. In the meantime, enjoy. ^^

Kate sat at the kitchen counter of her apartment, drinking coffee while reading the local news on her laptop. Figaro was curled in a ball on the counter right behind her laptop. Though the cat was still growing, he was almost double the size of a regular house cat.

She’d was reading about disturbances people have been reporting at night; namely The Court of Owls and Grave. The two organizations were fighting over Gotham, though they’d still somehow managed to do it in a way that kept them both a secret from the population at large.

As she sipped her coffee, a knock came at her door. She glanced over toward it, took a sip, then set the cup down and padded over toward the door. Figaro sprang up and followed behind her, curious to see who had come to __his__ home.

Kate opened the door, and there stood Bruce, in rather casual attire; a simple black t-shirt, jeans, and even sneakers. Kate looked the man over and arched an eyebrow, to which he briefly flashed a smile before she wordlessly invited him inside. Figaro padded away, disinterested.

“Kate,” Bruce said evenly.

“Bruce,” Kate replied with a small smile, closing the door behind him. “Coffee?” she offered, grabbing her own cup off of the island and moving toward the cupboard. Bruce waved his hand dismissively and shook his head.

“No thank you. I just came to ask--” Bruce started, when another knock came at the door. Kate held up a finger and then moved toward the door and opened it to reveal--

“Dad, hey! Come in!” she said with a bright smile, inviting the man inside. Jake hugged his daughter before making his way inside, extending his hand to Bruce.

“Bruce, nice to see you again,” Jake said smoothly.

“Likewise, Colonel,” Bruce replied, giving the man a firm handshake. “And plans to retire?” Bruce asked with a slight smirk. Jacob snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, I’ll retire when I’m dead,” he replied, earning a laugh from his daughter. Kate sipped her coffee and then turned her attention to Bruce.

“So what did you come here to ask?”

“I wanted to invite you all to Thanksgiving Dinner at the manor. You’re family, so--”

“We’d love to, wouldn’t we Katie?” Jacob asked. Kate smiled and pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek.

“Of course. I still need to make the trip to New York to get Jason though--”

“Let me do it,” Jake interjected. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? The kid and I haven’t really spent much time together. Could be fun. Let me worry about Jason,” The man answered. Kate turned to Bruce and sipped her coffee, then shrugged her shoulders.

“Alright, well I guess we’ll all be there."

* * *

 

Jason glanced around his room to make sure he had all the things he needed; his other room mate had already left for the holiday a couple of hours earlier, leaving him to his thoughts. Even though he’d already spent a few Thanksgiving holidays with Kate and Jacob, it was still…weird. His whole childhood had been spent just trying to survive. Thanksgiving for him consisted of trying to get his mother up after getting stoned, to cook dinner before his father got home, drunk, and inevitably started a fight.

But now he had… _a family _.__  It was still weird to get used to that. That, and everything that came with it.

Once the young man had everything packed, he hefted his duffelbag over his shoulder and made his way out of the building. He pulled his phone out when it went off to find a text from Jacob, letting him know he’d be waiting out front. Jason nodded to himself, then pocketed the phone.

Sure enough, as he made his way to the front of the campus, Jacob was waiting for him in the car, chatting it up with one of the instructors. As Jason neared the car, the other man said his goodbyes to Jacob, then Jason hopped into the passenger’s seat.

“Heya gramps, where’s Kate,” Jason asked. Jacob glanced over at the young man and stared at him in silence until he remembered his seat belt. Jason made an ‘oh’ sound and buckled up.

“Call me ‘gramps’ again, and I’ll make you walk,” Jacob teased with a smirk as he started the engine. Jason chuckled in amusement and looked out the window as they pulled away from the campus.

Silence pervaded the car ride as Jason stared out the window. Jacob glanced over at the young man a few times, trying to think of something to say to him. They hadn’t exactly spent any time together, at length, or alone. They were still, on the whole, strangers, to one another. This seemed like a good opportunity to fix that. But the question was…how?

“So,” Jacob started after clearing his throat “how’re the grades?” Jason glanced over at the man and flashed a smile.

“Uh…good. Got straight As so far,” Jason replied. Jacob nodded, and Jason went silent. The young man fidgeted a little, then cleared his throat. “I’m at the top of my class, actually. Both academics, and training.” Jacob gave a nod in response, then another awkward silence settled over them. “Actually,” Jason chimed in again, rubbing the back of his neck and prompting Jacob to glance in his direction. “West Point is pretty stressful.”

“Hah, yeah, it hasn’t changed much since my day,” Jacob replied with a grin. “It’s intentionally stressful. But you seem to be handling it pretty well,” he added. Jason flashed a grin.

“Well, I _did_ have an advanced class before enrolling. I like to think I’m doing pretty damn well,” he replied, earning a snort of amusement from Jacob.

“Yeah, my Kate is a hard ass, ain’t she?” Jacob asked, to which Jason laughed. “But then, she takes after her father,” he added with a prideful grin. “What about you?” he asked, glancing over at Jason. Jason’s smile faded almost immediately, eyes falling toward the floor.

“My dad was a scum bag,” Jason said after a few moment’s hesitation. Jacob’s own expression turned serious as he glanced over at the young man, but didn’t interrupt. “He was a car thief. Took me out on the streets and taught me what he knew. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was getting drugs for my mother, or running jobs for Penguin or Two-Face.”

“I see. I heard you were a street kid, but Katie never went into specifics,” Jacob replied. Jason gave a slight nod as another silence fell over them. Jason sighed a bit and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over at Jacob.

“Dinah says it’s good to talk about this crap, but I don’t know. People have a tendency to judge you, based on your parents or where you came from,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “So…I don’t talk about it.”

“West Point likely did a background check,” Jacob answered, glancing over at him once more. “And here you are; attending one of the most prestigious military academies in America.” He flashed the man a smile, and Jason’s own smile returned. “Plus, my Katie is a good judge of character. You don’t need to worry about us; we know who you are.”

“Thanks. Now let’s change the subject before we start singing Kumbaya,” Jason replied with a grin, earning a laugh from Jacob.

“Like hell,” he replied, the two of them sharing a laugh.

* * *

 

After a four hour drive, Jacob and Jason arrived at the manor; the entire family decided to spend the rest of the week together at the manor, from Wednesday to Saturday, and enjoy each other’s company. Jason didn’t mind that, but he was sure Bruce would be watching him and Dick like a hawk.

“Hey guys, we’re here!” Jason called. The first thing he saw, was Figaro darting toward him, meowing at him. He grinned from ear to ear, followed by a series of “ows” as the cat jumped up on him. “Hey Figaro! Miss me?” Jason asked, laughing as the cat rubbed up against his face and neck, then moved to stand on his back, all while looking ridiculous because of how big he’d gotten.

Dick chuckled as he approached the man and carefully grabbed Figaro, lifting him off Jason and setting him on the floor. The cat immediately returned to Jason, purring softly as he brushed against Jason’s leg, prompting the man to chuckle in amusement.

“I guess that’s a yes. What about you, Dickie?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. Dick opened his mouth to speak, but wasn’t able to get a single word out before Bruce interrupted, placing a hand on their chests and pushing them apart.

“Break it up,” he said smoothly, glancing at each of them. Dick laughed.

“We haven’t done or said anything to each other yet,” he defended.

“Good. Don’t,” Bruce said to them both with a serious expression.

“Stop teasing the love birds, Bruce,” Kate called as she padded into the room with a smile on her face. Both Dick and Jason blushed crimson and Bruce flashed a smirk as he left them alone. Kate passed by him and playfully punched him in the arm before moving toward Jason. “It’s good to see you,” she said to him, giving him a hug.

“You too,” Jason replied, hugging her back. Kate slipped past Jason and picked up his bags, prompting Jason to try and take them from her. “Hey, it’s fine, I can carry my own bags,” he argued.

“No, it’s fine, let me,” Kate argued tugging them back away from him.

“Allow me,” Alfred cut in, taking the bags away from both of them.

“Alfred--” Jason started. Alfred turned to him and gave a slight bow of his head.

“It’s no trouble, Master Jason. Would you care to join me in the kitchen to help with the baking for tomorrow?” he asked. Jason grinned from ear to ear.

“Oh yeah, I’ve missed cooking,” he replied. Alfred smirked slightly, then gestured for Jason to follow him, and up the stairs they went. Jason glanced around the hallway as he followed Alfred, spotting Dick’s room. Alfred led him down to the other end of the hall and pushed the door open.

“Here you are, Master Jason. I’ve prepared quarters for you,” Alfred said to him, leading him into the room and setting the bags down nearby. Jason looked around the room, pausing when he felt Figaro brush past his legs. He looked down, then watched the cat hop up onto the bed and make himself comfortable in the middle of it.

“I see Figaro has already made himself at home,” Jason commented, flashing a smirk. Alfred nodded.

“Indeed,” he said to him, flashing a smile. “Now, we have some baking to do, and we have to prepare dinner tonight. Would you care to aid me?”

“Sure thing,” Jason replied, following Alfred out of the room. They got halfway down the hall, before a rather tired looking Tim Drake padded out of his room, running a hand through his messy black hair. The teen yawned, then stopped before Jason and Alfred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Jason?” he asked groggily. Jason snorted in amusement and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Have you been asleep all this time?” he asked. Tim yawned again and nodded.

“Uh…yeah. Alfred took my laptop and made me go to sleep. How long was I out?” he asked.

“Seventeen hours, Master Tim. It’s almost four in the afternoon,” Alfred replied. Tim yawned again, then stretched.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow indeed. How--”

“Master Timothy spent four days without sleep. So I took his laptop away and made him rest,” Alfred explained. Jason laughed and Tim frowned at him.

“Wow. Timbo, you need to chill out,” Jason teased.

“Bite me,” Tim replied, playfully punching Jason’s arm. Jason chuckled on amusement and wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders, leading him down the hallway.

“Only if you say ‘please’.” he teased.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate started helping Alfred clear the table, while Dick, Tim, Bruce, Jason and Jacob made their way for the living room. Suddenly, the whole manor went dark, the electricity going off. The four of them stopped in their tracks and exchanged looks. 
> 
> “That’s not a good sign,” Dick commented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _sigh_. This was supposed to have been done back in November, but...well, y'know what they say? _Shit happens._ TL;DR: personal stuff, family drama, etc. Better late than never I guess. Also sorry for the abrupt ending. Couldn't think of a good ending, so it was just like, whatever. x)

Jason spent the better part of the following day in the kitchen with Alfred, preparing Thanksgiving Dinner. In the main Living Room, Jacob, Bruce, and Kate sat gathered around the coffee table with the TV on in the background while they chatted and caught up on recent events, with some occasional banter about “the nightlife”. Jacob was well aware about what his daughter got up to as Batwoman, and Jason as Lark. By extension, he knew Bruce was Batman, but it was a well guarded secret. 

Dick, meanwhile, spent his time with Tim, playing video games with the teen in his room. Though Tim seemed to prefer to want to focus on a case, Dick convinced him to take a break, which was no easy feat. It helped though, that Tim looked up to him,  _ and  _ was incapable of saying ‘no’ to him; Dick didn’t even need to break out his best puppy-eyed look.

“Master Jason, how is the--” Alfred called over his shoulder as he pulled the turkey out of the oven and set it on the counter. Jason was already one step ahead of him however. He glanced over his shoulder at Alfred and cut the man off, wearing a smile on his face.

“Don’t worry Alfred, the ham is coming along just fine,” Jason replied as he finished glazing the ham. He picked it up and then moved across the kitchen, sliding it into the oven. He breathed a sigh and wiped his brow, turning when he heard a chuckle of amusement from behind him. 

“Watching you cook with Alfred is adorable,” Dick said to him, flashing a smirk as he grabbed an apple out of the fruit basket on the kitchen island. Jason snorted in amusement and pulled off his apron, tossing it onto the island. He hopped up onto a stool across from Dick and quickly snatched the apple from him, taking a bite of it before handing it back.

“I’m  _ always  _ adorable. It’s part of my charm,” he replied, flashing a grin as he winked at his boyfriend. Dick chuckled in amusement and took another bite of the apple. He opened his mouth to speak, but both his and Jason’s attention was drawn to Tim as the teen made his way into the kitchen.

“Jay, stop hitting on my brother,” Tim snapped, but in a teasing tone. Jason glanced over his shoulder to see if Alfred was looking, then attempted to flip Tim off, but--

“Do not even think about it, Master Jason,” Alfred called from the other side of the kitchen. Tim snickered at him and Jason turned and stared at Alfred for a few moments.

“How did--”

“He’s Alfred,” Dick and Tim cut in, in unison, earning a snort of amusement from Jason. Tim hopped up at the kitchen counter and the three of them spent some time just chatting about inconsequential things, occasionally dipping into the night life. Tim even started to tease Jason a little bit about still being Lark.

“I mean, c’mon Jay, isn’t it time you got your own identity, away from Batwoman?” Tim asked, arching an eyebrow. Dick snickered in amusement, earning a glare from Jason. He sighed and leaned back against the island, tilting his head back.

“Yeah, yeah. Can it birdboy. I’ll get my own identity soon enough. As soon as I figured it out. Right now, I’m too busy with all my classes and my training at West Point,” Jason answered. He sat upright again and pointed at Tim “which I’ll remind you, is tough as hell. I’m busting my ass five days out of the week, from sunup to sundown.”

“So you keep mentioning. But I train with Bruce, remember? So--” Tim argued, unable to hold back the grin spreading across his face, even as Jason cut him off and waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah, but we’re talking about  _ me _ , dingus. Not you,” he joked. Tim punched his arm playfully, and Jason responded by kicking his shin. Tim muttered an ‘ow’ and was about to retaliate, when Alfred cut in.

“Children, behave yourselves,” Alfred scolded, betrayed by the slight smirk on his face. “Now Master Jason, Master Timothy, would you kindly help me set the table? And Master Dick, would you fetch the others, please?” 

“Sure thing,” Jason and Dick replied in unison. The two of them stepped away from the counter, Dick heading for the living room and Jason went to help Alfred set the table, with Tim joining in. 

While Tim set the plates, silverware, and glasses, Jason and Alfred began setting the table with the various dishes they’d been preparing for the lion’s share of the day. The turkey and ham sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by bowls of carrots, broccoli, 

Stuffing, and cranberry sauce. There was a small plate stacked with freshly baked biscuits, and another with baked potatoes on it. Jason had taken the liberty of creating a few dishes of his own, including a green bean casserole with fried shallots, and an apple pie made with fresh apples.

“Oh wow, dinner smells  _ amazing _ ,” Kate commented, taking a deep whiff of the meal Alfred and Jason had prepared. Bruce and Jacob took their seats, with Dick and Tim on either side of Bruce, and Kate beside her father, with Jason taking a seat beside her. Alfred sat next to Jason, across from Bruce.

“Indeed, it looks delicious, Alfred,” Bruce added, flashing a smile. Jacob chuckled in amusement and grabbed a biscuit.

“I’ll say. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Well, I had the aid of Master Jason,” Alfred acknowledged, nodding toward Jason who flashed a grin. 

“I don’t mean to brag, but I think I’ve become quite the chef, what with spending all that time in the kitchen when Alfred,” Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. Dick chuckled in amusement, stabbing at his turkey.

“Well, I think it’s great, Jay,” he chimed in. Tim snorted at him, shaking his head.

“Your opinion doesn’t count; you’re his boyfriend, you’re  _ supposed  _ to lie to him,” Tim joked. Jason was about to flick some cranberry sauce at him, off of his spoon, until a well placed glare from Alfred stopped him.

Dinner went from there rather delightfully, with everyone joking with each other, talking about inconsequential things, teasing each other, and so on. They mostly avoided talk of the nightlife, save for a few occasions when Tim and Dick teased Jason about his lack of an independent identity. Kate even joined them, much to Jason’s dismay. Of course, Jason teased Tim back; ‘Red Robin? Really Tim? How’s that better?’

“Mmm, damn, that was good. ‘Course now I could go for a damn nap,” Jason said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Dick nodded in agreement and pushed his empty plate away.

“Agreed. Nothing like a nap after a delicious Thanksgiving dinner,” Dick added.

“It’s mandatory, actually. Between that, and a Football game,” Tim added in with a chuckle of amusement. Alfred rose from his seat moments later and began grabbing empty plates.

“Very well. Why don’t you all retire to the Living Room while I clean up?” he offered.

“I’ll help,” Jason said immediately, jumping from his chair. Kate rose from her seat and patted Jason’s shoulder.

“You spent all day cooking with Alfred. Allow me,” she offered, flashing a smile. She glanced over at Alfred and said “I won’t bother trying to convince  _ you  _ to take a break, Alfred.”

“Wise woman,” Bruce joked, flashing a smirk.

Kate started helping Alfred clear the table, while Dick, Tim, Bruce, Jason and Jacob made their way for the living room. Suddenly, the whole manor went dark, the electricity going off. The four of them stopped in their tracks and exchanged looks. 

“That’s not a good sign,” Dick commented.

“No it’s not. The generator should have automatically kicked in,” Bruce replied in a low tone. Before anyone could get another word out, the sound of glass shattering came from several different rooms at once. Assassins, the Court of Owls, starting pouring into the room. “Go to the cave!” Bruce called immediately, the five of them making for the grandfather clock. Alfred and Kate followed after them, with Bruce and Kate taking on the assassins to cover their retreat.

Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Jacob raced down into the cave, with Bruce, Kate, and Jason behind them, with hordes of assassins hot on their heels. Alfred immediately made for the weapon’s locker where Bruce kept the firearms; they were for training purposes only, save for Alfred, of course. He favored a sawed-off shotgun. Dick, Bruce and Tim meanwhile made for the gear locker and quickly changed into their gear.

“Jacob!” Alfred called, grabbing a shotgun, and tossing Jacob a handgun. “Master Bruce! Remember, you don’t have to hold back! They’re not alive!” Alfred called to him.

“I know,” Bruce replied. He tossed a set of body armor each to Kate and Jason, then made a beeline across the cave. “Hold them off!” he called, as the assassins started pouring into the cave.

“We are here for Grayson!” came a voice from the stairs. As they assassins flooded the room, one more ornately dressed sauntered into the cave, face concealed by a mask.

“Talon,” Dick growled. His actual name eluded them, so they called him “Talon”. The Court had only a handful of Talons, but each one was a highly trained, proficient killer. The Talons were elite assassins, and if one was present, it meant the target was of the utmost importance. In this case, Dick.

“What do you want with Dick?!” Tim snapped. Jason and Kate didn’t wait for an answer, and instead charged at Talon. Several of the lesser assassins jumped in their way, forcing the two of them to fight them off.

“Grayson belongs to the Court of Owls. We’re here to reclaim their property.”

“I don’t think so,” came Bruce’s voice. Talon turned and jumped backwards just in time to dodge the fist of the BatBot. Batman was piloting the robot, and swung a fist at some incoming assassins, easily dispatching them. Gunshots sounded from across the cave, Alfred’s shotgun taking down assassin after assassin.

Jacob fought them off with a combination of martial arts and gun play, and Kate and Jason joined the two of them, while Dick and Tim handled themselves. That was until Talon directed his efforts at them. As Tim turned, Talon lunged at him. He swung his bo staff, which Talon dodged with relative ease. Tim had to duck back to avoid a knife strike, then Dick jumped in to his defense, escrima sticks swinging.

“Talented. But you could be so much more with the Court. A ruthless assassin,” Talon said to him, throwing a few throwing knives his way. Dick batted them aside with his escrima stick and snorted.

“Me? An assassin? Never!”

“You hesitate, avoid the killing blows! It makes you weak! When you could be strong; the greatest assassin the world has ever known! You were trained for this, bred for this! You belong to the Court!”

“I don’t  _belong_ to anyone but myself!” Dick shot back, shoving Talon off of him. Talon gave a dark, almost bone-chilling laugh as he charged at Dick again, but Jason jumped to his defense, landing a spin kick to the side of his face and sending the assassin across the cave.

“You. Grave has their eyes on you. It would behoove me to rid them of such an asset--”

“You talk too much. Shut up and fight, you sad sack of shit,” Jason interrupted, flashing a grin. Dick chuckled in amusement at Jason’s comment and readied his escrima sticks to challenge Talon alongside him. Talon snorted and attempted to charge at the duo, but the Batbot’s fist came from behind him, slamming him into the ground and pinning him.

“The game is over, Talon! Get something to restrain him!” Bruce ordered. But no sooner had he issued to order, what was left of the assassins all piled onto him, forcing him to let go of the Talon.

“Another time, Grayson. But you  _ will  _ serve The Court!” Talon taunted, throwing down a smoke bomb. Dick and Jason both coughed, and as the smoke cleared, Talon had escaped. They looked around the cave to see the remains of the Court’s undead assassins scattered everywhere.

“Shit. What a mess. Dick, you okay?” Jason asked, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick gave a nod in reply and pulled off his domino mask.

“Yeah. But the Court seems pretty desperate to get me to join them. As if that would ever happen,” he replied, flashing a grin. Jason chuckled in amusement; he still hadn’t told Kate that Grave was after him; two different organizations after he and Dick. Not a good sign. But he was sure he could take care of himself. He didn’t want to worry Kate needlessly. Though still, after what happened here today…

“We’d best get to cleaning this place up. I’ll start investigating immediately,” Bruce said smoothly.

“Bruce, it’s still Thanksgiving. We can worry about that later,” Dick replied.

“I agree. We shouldn’t let this put a damper on the mood of things,” Jason added with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Jacob added.

“Hey, you’re hurt!” Jason pointed out Jacob’s shoulder, which had a pretty nasty cut on it. Jacob glanced at his shoulder and snorted.

“It looks worse than it is. It’s fine,” he replied. 

“Not to worry, I can have you patched up,” Alfred said to him. Jacob nodded in reply, followed Alfred across the cave.

“You should probably tell Kate about Grave,” Dick whispered to Jason. Jason glanced over at Kate, who had gone over to help Alfred patch up her father, then back to Dick.

“It’s fine. Haven’t seen hair or hide of those bastards in months. Besides, I can handle it,” Jason replied, flashing a smirk. Dick shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Famous last words.”

“Bite me.”

“Maybe later.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Kate asked, lips curved into a smirk as she approached the two of them.

“Nothing. Just teasing each other,” Dick quickly put in. Kate glanced around the cave and then gestured for the two of them to follow her.

“Well, c’mon then. We should get to cleaning up this mess. Bruce--” Kate started, spotting him already sitting at the Batcomputer. She sighed and shook her head. “Some things never change,” she said to herself.

“You should tell her,” Dick whispered again. Jason cringed and gently pushed Dick away.

“Yeah, yeah. Later.”


End file.
